


The Most Wanted

by Treeni



Series: Wanted [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternative Universe - FBI, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Past Character Death, Robbery, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28403919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treeni/pseuds/Treeni
Summary: In a world where soulmates are said to see each past life they spent together upon making contact with one another, Logan and Janus are FBI agents who think the concept of soulmates are nonsense... at least that's what they tell each other.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Wanted [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085957
Comments: 42
Kudos: 40





	1. Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> So this one kind of got away from me. It's a gift for andykzzstuff for the sanderssidesgiftxchange. I tried to set up for all of the prompts they asked for, while focusing on one in particular.
> 
> Ooph, I hope this is close enough to fluff? The heartbreaking aspect kind of got away from me.

“Your usual Lo?” Patton, the baker, asked unnecessarily as the man already set Logan’s usual pastry on the counter and was in the process of filling the to-go cup Logan brought along before he could even respond. He could feel his stomach churning anticipatorily at the smell of warm baked bread and the sweet, gooey cherry filling of his breakfast tart. The waft of warm sweets, coupled with in-house roasted coffee beans, made the tiny hole in the wall that was The Crowned Bakery, one of Logan’s favorite places to visit since he moved to the city after accepting his current job position with the FBI.

Something about that little bakery always reminded him of home. Maybe it was the coffee always tasted smoother than it did in the chains or maybe it was that Patton made his tarts with jam, instead of preserves, just like his mom had. Then again, maybe it was just the atmosphere? Even Logan could appreciate the cozy atmosphere of plush booths and a warm fireplace in the midst of a city mostly composed of harsh lines and cold greys.

Logan opted not to answer the question verbally, instead simply nodded in response as he watched Patton move behind the counter with practiced ease. Logan had come to the same café with the same order every single day for the past three years, since starting his current position in fact. Hell, on the days the owner worked the man usually had Logan’s pastry on the counter with a pot of coffee sitting next to it, ready to pour. People didn’t typically warm up to Logan fast, or at all really. There were few people he let in, but since coming to the city, Patton had shown to be a rare gem of kindness. Maybe that was another reason Logan kept coming back? The young baker never seemed to mind Logan’s non-responses or even his occasional [word vomit?]. Patton simply accepted it all with a general cheery air and chattered away at him about his life and the bakery. In his years attending, he learned that the bakery was a family business passed down to the current owner. He learned that as a teen, Patton was kicked out of his home. The bakery owner had found him on the streets and taken him in. He’d been a constant presance at the bakery ever since, certainly as long as Logan had known him.

Speaking of the owner....

“Where’s Priam?” Logan asked, closing the lid on his cup with a satisfying _‘plop’_ after Patton slid it across the countertop. “He’s usually here on Thursdays.”

“He’s out on a business trip today, had to talk to one of our suppliers,” Patton explained over the clicking sounds of the register keys just as he confirmed the purchase, leading it to ding and open up for him. “How’s Jan doing?”

“Late,” Logan said with a frown, glancing at his watch. Patton just gave him a knowing smile as he sorted the bills Logan had passed his way. They both knew that even if Janus was early, he’d still be late compared to Logan’s habit of perpetual timeliness.

“On his way then? I’ll start him a fresh pot!” Patton said cheerfully and moved to fill the empty carafe with water.

“He’ll be lucky if he has time to even make a purchase at this rate. We were meant to meet here and begin our shift tonight in just over five minutes.”

“Not everyone can be early to being early,” Patton teased, shoving two sugar packets toward Logan that he always swore he never wanted, but always accepted. “That’ll be $3.76, would you like to make a donation with your purchase?”

“What for?”

Logan swore he would scream if the salvation army infiltrated one of the few remaining places that gave him peace. They had become a constant pest as the months grew colder and there were much better causes he’d rather give his money to.

“I’ve been saving up and my foundation’s finally been approved! That’s one of the things Priam’s working on is getting the word out. We’re in the process of building housing for LGBT+ youth that are homeless or need somewhere safe to go. Our current group is in a boarding house we’ve just finished. It’s not much yet, but it’s a start.”

Patton gestured to the large glass jug that had replaced the tip jar on the counter. It had a picture taped on it depicting some kids with a rainbow flag in the background.

“Doesn’t there need to be some sort of guardian there?” Logan asked, already dropping in a few crisp bills into the jar.

“I’m there nights now and take care of breakfast and dinner, but we’re currently looking to hire someone for the day shift while I’m here. I have a friend currently helping out, but he can’t stay long term. Hey, if you have any recommendations, send them my way!”

“I don’t-” Logan started, but stopped himself mid-sentence as the bell above the entrance door finally rang. He glanced toward it expecting the shorter man in one of his ridiculous fitted suits and stupid bowler hats. Instead, his gaze met a stranger. It was a tall somebody in a puffy, ragged jacket that looked at if it were a whisper away from falling apart at the seams. The hood was pulled low on the stranger’s face and their hair further obscured their appearance. Their hands were tucked deep in their pockets and they glanced around the coffee shop as if they were surveying it for threats.

Patton simply called a “Welcome!” to the stranger, but his attention was diverted by a beeping toaster that housed a warming pastry on the edge of burning no doubt.

Logan squinted at the man and set his coffee on the counter, taking a seat on one of the many padded barstools he’d never bothered to use and arched his back with shrugged shoulders to make himself appear less assuming. It could be nothing, but if it wasn’t, he couldn’t drawl attention to himself. At least, he couldn’t quite yet.

As the stranger makes his way toward the counter, Logan shifted his hand to the revolver hidden at his waist. He rarely ever actually used the thing, usually preferring negotiation, but sometimes the sight of it alone was enough to diffuse a situation.

Before he could drawl it out however, Logan heard the familiar click of a gun being cocked and immediately froze.

“Don’t move,” The stranger mumbled, a shiny, black pistol held in one hand as it was pointed directly at Logan’s head.

Logan could vaguely hear several voices, shouts and screams of sorts, but they sounded far away somehow. It was as if the sound was traveling to his ears through water. They quickly dispersed too and Logan could only hope it meant that the other patrons retreated to some sort of safety.

“Hands up, _now_.”

Logan stared directly at angry purple eyes and slowly moved his hands up by his head. Unfortunately, the position pulled his suit jacket up enough to expose the concealed gun tucked in his belt. Despite shaking hands, the gunman immediately grabbed it from his belt and emptied it of its rounds, tucking them away before throwing the now useless hunk of plastic and metal crashing across the room.

“Hey, hey, everything’s okay here, no one’s gonna hurt you, okay?” Patton suddenly cooed from behind the counter and Logan internally cursed. He had hoped Patton hid. Instead, he was one more person in the mix to potentially get hurt. “It doesn’t have to be this way okay hun? What’s your name? I’m Patton.”

The stranger didn’t turn his gaze away from Logan, but slammed a mesh bag onto the counter in front of the baker.

“You’ve got to have a name right?”

“Sh-shut up,” the gunman stuttered out in a shaky voice. The man trembled in place so much it wasn’t totally clear what was keeping him standing.

“You’re here for money right hon? I’ll open the register for you, just promise you won’t hurt anyone, okay?”

The gunman didn’t move the pistol, but his attention wavered, finally looking Patton’s way as he gave the kindly man a tiny nod.

“Stay out of this Pat,” Logan commanded, biting back a huff at the baker’s brashness. He slowly stood from the stool, trying to push himself between a remarkably calm Patton and the gunman who looked as if he were the most terrified one of all in this situation.

“D-d-don’t move!” The gunman yelled, locking his grip once more so the gun was pointed firmly at Logan again. His eyes were watering and his breathing was absolutely ragged. He appeared on the edge of hysterics, as if he were on the edge of a panic attack.

“Hey, no need for that, I’m opening it right now, the money’s yours, promise,” Patton said in the same assuring tone Logan had heard him use to placate irate customers and comfort shy children. “It’s okay. The customers here are all my friends and I don’t want anything to happen to them.”

Logan almost gawked at Patton’s steady tone. He looked absolutely steady as he stared down the gunman with little more than a smile. Still, even he wasn’t immune to fear, from his position by the counter, Logan could _just_ barely see the way he was nervously shaking his leg out of the gunman’s sight.

“Even Lo here’s a good guy,” Patton said with a wink that would have been almost playful had the situation not been so dire. “You have friends too, right hon?”

The gunman still stared hard at Logan, but somehow Patton seemed to be getting through to him. It was like he was connecting somehow. He made an almost choked noise swallowed loud enough for Logan to hear it.

The gunman took a breath and squared his shoulders slightly, still shaking. “Virgil.”

“What was that?”

“My name... it’s Virgil,” he said, his arm lowering slightly as he paid increasing attention to Patton.

The gun’s direction changed with it to point instead toward Logan’s shoulder, leaving the agent to internally debate with himself how safely he could take the damn thing without it discharging. He wasn’t particularly looking to get himself or anyone else shot today.

“See here Virgil? It’s all yours,” Patton said, holding the mesh bag now filled with the mostly small bills of coffee goers. “No harm done, right Virgil?”

Virgil nodded again, just barely gripping the bag before the sound of a click drew all of their attention. Suddenly, there stood Janus in the kitchen doorway, decked out in an over-priced suit and matching bowler hat. His own gun was drawn and pointed directly at Virgil.

“You’re late.”

“By two minutes,” Janus huffed, taking a step closer to Virgil while keeping a steady grip. It was increasingly clear between the two gun-holders, who was more comfortable gripping their weapon. “And that was only because I had to go through the back after I saw my partner trying to get himself shot through the front window.”

“No one was getting shot,” Logan huffed, rolling his eyes. Janus was always one for dramatics, wasn’t he?

Virgil held his position, rapidly pointing his gun back and forth between Janus and Logan. He seemed unclear of who he should be defending himself against. While Janus had a gun pointed his way, Logan was still in reaching distance.

“Now, drop the gun,” Janus said evenly. While Virgil still trembled, Janus’ aim stayed absolutely steady.

Janus was the best shot during their academy years. He was a quick drawl and had deadly accuracy, at least in the range he did. While Logan went out of his way to find alternative methods, the agent had never actually seen his partner fire the thing in any real situation since they were paired together, long before they were scouted by the FBI. He’d sometimes wondered if his partner actually kept any bullets for it or if he was just bluffing his way through. It was hard to ever really know with him. Janus had always had a history of recklessness, particularly when someone was in danger. It was one of the things that drove Logan endlessly crazy. Janus was absolutely predictable, until it counted.

Before Virgil could react, Logan had used the gunman’s diverted attention to his advantage and yanked the gun from his grip before immediately turning it back on him.

“You’re under arrest.”

Seeing the situation turned, Virgil immediately moved his hands up compliantly before staring down toward his ragged chucks. Oddly enough, he looked almost relieved.

“Let him go,” Patton cut in, using a sterner tone than Logan had ever heard from the man. “No charges.”

“What?” Janus asked, looking at Patton incredulously. “He tried to _rob_ you!”

“I said ‘no charges’ Jan, now let him go.”

Janus’ jaw dropped and he stared Logan’s way as if to ask if he was really hearing this correctly. Logan returned the expression with an equal level of bewilderment.

Patton moved out from behind the [divider] and pushed his way between the agents and the Virgil. The baker pressed a hand to the man’s shoulder, causing him to flinch and finally glance back up.

“When was the last time you’ve gotten something to eat Virgil?” Patton asked, a look of horror overtaking his expression as he stared down where is hand met the plush covered shoulder.

“Uh...” Virgil muttered. He stared hard at Patton’s hand on him with his jaw dropped just slightly, as if he were as equally confused as the agents with this situation. “Th-three days... maybe?”

“Put that away!” Patton ordered at Janus who put his hands up submissively when faced with a wrathful Patton. The baker’s expression was contorted in an expression of annoyance that Logan had never seen on the man before as he guided Virgil to the very stool that Logan had vacated.

Logan had squinted his eyes at Patton when the baker shot a similar glare his way, but he complied with his wishes for now, emptying the confiscated pistol of its rounds before tucking it away. It was only then that Patton softened his glare, before pushing a scone in front of the man who tried to rob him.

“Here Virgil, try this,” Patton said with a softer smile than Logan thought he had any right to wear. “I made it this morning.”

It only grew softer as the three watched Virgil take a hesitant bite.

“It’s good,” the man muttered, pushing his hood out of the way as some crumbs started to stick to the edges.

With the hood out of the way, they three could see Virgil’s face a bit clearer. He was pale, almost sickly so. He had some bruises scattered under one eye that traveled down the side of his face, but the other eye looked sunken enough from what Logan suspected was a lack of sleep that it almost looked bruised as well. Logan wasn’t certain what the man had been through, but whatever it was had clearly roughed him up. He wondered how far those bruises went and if he was hiding anymore damage under those baggy clothes of his.

Logan had looked at his partner to see even Janus frowning as he inspected the damage, but only someone who had known Janus as long as Logan had would be able to discern the worry on his face. Contrastingly, Patton stood, the picture of horror with a hand covering his mouth as he looked at Virgil on the edge of tears. However, they both seemed at an equal loss of what to do now.

“Stay with him,” Logan directed Janus before grabbing Patton by the shoulder and dragging him off toward the kitchen. The baker seemed reluctant to leave the scene, but after one last look Virgil’s way, he followed Logan willingly.

“You know we can’t just let him go,” Logan said with a sigh as soon as the door clicked closed. He was confident that the barrier and the whirring of several machines running back there would be enough to drown out their conversation. “He could have killed someone.”

“Please Lo?” Patton begged, with big watering eyes. In the years they’ve known each other, Patton had never once asked him for anything. “No one was hurt and- and he needs help! You and I both know a jail cell isn’t going to do him any good.”

“What would have happened had Janus not come when he did? Do you really think he wouldn’t have robbed you Patton? What if _I_ hadn’t been here and _you_ had been the one staring down the barrel?”

“I-”

“What if he killed you Patton?” Logan asked before pushing his glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose, _definitely not_ because he was trying to repress tears of his own. “I don’t want to loose any friends.”

“He wouldn’t have,” Patton said, with more conviction in his voice than he had in his expression.

“How do you know?”

“You saw him Lo, he looked terrified. He looked like he was barely able to keep himself up.”

“He _still_ could have-”

“I could have died on the street years ago!” Patton cut in. He seemed to surprise himself with his own volume. “I could have... so many things could have happened to me. I got lucky Lo. This guy looks like he needs a little luck too... so just... please?”

“If something happens after this... if he _hurts_ someone, It’s going to weigh on your conscious forever Pat,” Logan said, carefully enunciating each word to push the seriousness of the statement. “Can you really live with that?”

“He wont,” Patton insisted, taking Logan’s hand between both of his. “Please just... let me prove it to you.”

Logan stared at Patton for another beat before letting out a deep sigh that was followed by the baker immediately wrapping his arms around the agent in hug that nearly crushed him. Just what in the hell was he doing to get that strong?

Patton nearly skipped his way out of the kitchen and Logan ambled behind him, his still slightly reluctant considering what he just agreed to.

“It’s gonna be okay!” Patton declared as soon as he pushed past Janus to reach the counter where Virgil was still sat. He was practically bouncing on his toes as he gripped the edge of the counter. “You don’t have to worry about anything. You can stay as long as you need, I guarantee it! You don’t have to worry about not having a safe place to be anymore okay? Oh! I’m gonna call Priam right away about finding you somewhere to sleep tonight! Wait, before that though, what’s your favorite food? I’ll make whatever you want, my treat!”

“Thank you,” Virgil whispered, looking at the edge of tears himself before he reached to grab hold of Patton’s hand.

And then his eyes glowed blue.


	2. Holding on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day.

“Fucking soulmates, no wonder Pat trusted him so quick,” Janus said as they finally settled into their next shift, pulling off his had to run his hand through his hair. The blond was still reeling about the prior day’s events while Logan was largely trying to push them from his mind. The situation still didn’t quite settle right with him.

“He did not know that when there was a gun pointed at my head, I assure you,” Logan said with a huff.

He was maybe the tiniest bit salty about his life being threatened. Then again, maybe it was the fact that the shop was closed today after yesterday’s fiasco and Logan that was putting him on edge. His job didn’t lend him to much of a consistent routine, so it was a bother when he was deprived of one of the few consistencies of his life. Now he was stuck in a stakeout with shitty acidic coffee as a sub-par substitute.

“I still can’t believe he let it go that easily,” Janus said with a snort. “I sure as hell wouldn’t have let someone off after they tried to rob me just because they’re my soulmate.”

“I thought you did not believe in soulmates,” Logan remarked, taking another sip of the caffeinated sludge that didn’t deserve to be categorized as “coffee.”

“I don’t,” Janus deadpanned.

It told Logan nothing about the seriousness of the statement.

“Why do you think I wear theses?” Janus asked, wiggling fingers housed in a pair of leather gloves. He grinned mischievously. “The whole past lives thing is probably no more than some hallucinogenic bullshit that happens whenever the so-called ‘soulmates’ meet.”

Honestly, it was a fifty/fifty of Janus just trying to bullshit him again.

“But even if I did believe in it, I still wouldn’t just let them get away with what Patton did,” Janus said, shaking his head. “If I’m ever dumb enough to let some ‘soulmate’ influence me like that, _shoot me_. I honestly don’t know what he’s thinking.”

“He was thinking, that could have been him,” Logan said with a half shrug, doubting his own words.

Janus snorted, seemingly at the mere thought of it. “I don’t think the he’d be capable of it in any lifetime, much less this one,” Janus said with a huff.

“He had a rough patch, back in the day from what I hear,” Logan said, fighting down the guilt of giving in yesterday. He still worried about Patton’s safety....

“And how would you know?”

“You are just never early enough to hear about it.”

Janus’ mouth dropped open, about to argue back with him when Logan hushed his partner. He saw movement on one of the cams they had been monitoring. Two familiar figures made their way onto the screens. The brothers, Roman and Remus. They were notorious. One seemed to be able to smooth talk his way through almost any situation on charm alone. Then, anything the first couldn’t manage to talk his way out of, the other bashed his way through. Logan and Janus had been staking them out for a few weeks now as they worked on with the goal of eventually finding a trail to King himself, the white-collar crime lord that no one seemed to be able to pin down. The guy was practically a ghost. Logan and Janus had made the most progress of anyone on the case in years by tracking down two of his lieutenants.

Logan reached over and turned on the associated mic.

“How much we got?” Remus’ voice came over the tinny speaker and the agents watched as he popped a lollipop in his mouth. Had it been anyone else, that action alone would have broken the menacing image. From what Logan had seen however, Remus always had a dangerous vibe to him, no matter what he was doing.

“Fifty mil left,” Roman replied with a huff. “We’d have a lot less if you’d actually get up and help me.”

“Aww, bro, but I thought you liked being surrounded by money,” Remus said, stretching out across several of the boxes that were doubtlessly, filled with the fraudulent cash they’ve been printing. “Didn’t you always say you should be livin’ the high life?”

“Yes, on the edge of a mountain by a waterfall and far away from all of the shit people running this city.”

“Don’t you go forgetting about me when you hit the big ones now.”

“Please don’t insult me,” Roman said with a scoff, “You and I both know I’ll forget about you by the time I go to bed tonight.”

Logan rose an eyebrow at that statement. Weren’t they brothers? Janus however snorted, so he supposed it must be one of those joking sibling things he didn’t understand.

“You WOUND me!” Remus declared, dramatically rolling off the boxes he was perched on. He let himself fall on the floor and star-fished his limbs out before gasping and grabbing his chest as if having a heart attack. Roman spared him little more than a blank stare as he pretended to choke.

A couple of the boxes came with him though and toppled over, dumping their contents over Remus as if he was buried in sand.

“Now look at the mess you’ve made,” Roman chastised. “You’ll be getting all of that back in the boxes by yourself.”

“You can make a money angel~” Remus enticed, wiggling his eyebrows at Roman with a big grin as he gestured to the mess. It was clear the other twin was trying his best not to laugh as he turned his back on his brother.

“I _know_ you’re just trying to cajole me into cleaning up your mess for you and it’s not happening Rem. Now get to it!”

Remus groaned in reply, and rolled over, sprawling across the very money he knocked over while Roman continued to carry out boxes.

It was still several minutes after Roman had vacated the room with his current arm load that Remus sat up lazily, staring down at the mess he was tasked with cleaning. Logan wasn’t truly surprised by any of the behavior he’d shown so far that night. While he had been perplexed by Remus’ behavior in the beginning of their assignment, he was quickly realizing a pattern to the strangeness, in a sort of “expect the unexpected” sort of way.

However, he did something even Logan hadn’t expected.

Remus suddenly quirked his head to the side, staring down hard at the bills piled before him. He was absolutely still for a moment and Logan wished he had a better camera angle to figure out just what was holding the usually scatter-brained man’s attention so fully.

“Hey Rohhh,” Remus called as soon Roman crossed the doorway back into the abandoned building.

“What?” Roman huffed, crossing his arms as he approached his brother grumpily.

“Didn’t the bills have those blue strip thingies?”

“You really don’t pay attention when anyone speaks do you?”

“Not really,” Remus shrugged, passing up a bill to Roman.

“Oh shit,” Janus muttered, shifting wide eyes from the screen to Logan in a question of what to do.

Logan didn’t say it out loud, but he mentally concurred. As far as they had known, there weren’t any fraud printers who could _do_ that. The blue strips were supposed to be there as a security measure that only appeared in direct light to help identify the reals from the fakes.

“I think we’ve got some plants in our stock.”

Remus didn’t sound any less cheery at that revelation, but Roman cursed, reconfirming the claim by holding the planted fake bill up to the light. He instantly pulled out his cell phone and dialed out. “Hey, K? We need to do a sweep of the latest stock. Remus found some tracers.”

“Dammit!” Logan cursed, slamming a fist down on the steering wheel.

There went _weeks_ of work. The sole reason they had let this print job go on as long as it had, was the traceable bills they had snuck in to try and trace King’s current whereabouts. The only chance they had of salvaging this now was to try and apprehend the brothers on the off chance they could get one of them to talk.

Logan shoved open the door, storming his way out of the car, with Janus quickly trailing after him.

The two agents crept up the familiar path that was several stories up. It was as if criminals were actually trying to be _discreate_ or something these days, crazy right? Unfortunately, it also meant an annoying climb past several floors on the rotting, wooden stairwell of the abandoned building. It took a few minutes, but they eventually reached the floor they needed, confirming it by checking one of the camera’s hiding spots. It was exactly where they expected it to be.

Logan paused, causing Janus to stop behind him as he signaled him to wait. Logan wanted to make sure they had both caught their breaths properly before continuing. The last thing they needed was a situation reversal where one of the brothers got a jump on them because they could hear the agent’s breathing.

Remus in particular had already proven to be annoyingly perceptive.

Once Logan was sure his heart rate had calmed back down to a steady beat, he signaled Janus forward, toward an already open door. They carefully moved to either side of it and Logan peered in just slightly, using mainly his peripheral vision in an attempt to find an edge.

“Help me get these out of here quick Remus! Who knows how long we have before some agency or another shows up? _Someone_ put those bills in there.”

“Alright, alright already. Just let me get my jacket off. It’s hot in here and I’m _dying_ ,” Remus groaned, yanking off the leather trench coat he’d been wearing.

“Are you _really_ wearing that?” Roman asked, face planting, assumedly at the ‘Be Gay, Do Crime’ T-shirt Remus adorned atop a pair of chopped jean shorts.

“Not everyone wants to blow their money on shitty name brand clothing manufactured by slave labor.”

Roman gave an offended gasp before declaring, “You’re practically begging some egomaniac with a badge to come arrest you.”

“Sounds like a party!”

“Awww, no need to beg,” Janus said, pushing his way into the room before Logan’s signal.

After face-palming, Logan followed behind. He was supposed to be the one in the lead here as the senior officer, but it seemed Janus was incapable of passing up a dramatic entrance.

“Good evening officer,” Roman said immediately, not even missing a beat as he casually put aside the boxes he was carrying as if they _weren’t_ full of fake bills. “What brings you here today? Me and my brother were just in the midst of some clean up.”

“I’m sure,” Janus said with a snort.

“You’re not really the clean type though, are ya cutie?” Remus said with a wink in Janus’ direction.

“I’m always dressed to play a _little dirty_ ,” Janus flirted back, waggling a glove-covered hand Remus’ way.

Oddly enough, Logan found an odd sense of kinship with the criminal facing him, just for a moment, as he and Roman shared a mutual look of disgust at the implications they were hearing.

“You’re both under arrest,” Logan said stoically in an attempt to regain some composure to the room.

“I apologize if I come across as assumptive officer, but may I ask, on what charges? I can’t imagine what reason you would have to apprehend us.”

“For the creation and distribution of counterfeit bills,” Logan said.

“Counterfeit? My...” Roman said, sauntering toward Logan with crossed arms. “That does sound like a pretty damming charge... _if you can prove it._ ”

Roman narrowed his eyes at Logan and smirked when he wasn’t given an immediate response. They technically had no video of the brothers _creating_ the fake money. They just had video of them inside a room moving boxes of money that appeared real.

“Smirk all you want. Along with your arrest, we will be confiscating the room’s remains. Of course, you have _nothing_ to worry about with the entire disposal of the FBI, searching for the flaws in your prints, huh?” Janus taunted, causing Roman to scowl at him. Remus however, still seemed unaffected by the news, as he swayed oddly happily in place.

“You have no right to continue to inflate the system with your counterfeits,” Logan said, trying to move the interaction along. This was a conversation that would be better had individually in an interrogation room.

“Says who dipshit?” Remus asked, tossing his half depleted lollipop at Logan’s head. He would have hit him straight in the forehead had Logan not managed to duck in time.

“Your government’s constantly doing the same thing, inflating it with worthless bills, making each dollar represent less and less. How is it any different for someone else to do the same? A few corrupt men decide to make more money whenever it runs low and it always manages to end back up in their pockets, doesn’t it? Comparatively, those whom you seek have barely added a drop in the bucket, gentlemen. What _we have_ managed to do, where your system’s failed, is to make sure wealth gets into the right hands,” Roman said, reciting the speech almost as if it were a performance.

“And whose the right hands then?” Janus asked in a mocking tone. It sounded as if he was taking the speech about as seriously as Logan was. “Yours?”

“Wouldn’t YOU like to know?!” Remus cried with, with a high pitched, yet demented laugh as he suddenly ran toward the two agents before either could react and took a swing of his bat at Janus’ head. As Janus dodged, Remus missed his apparent target, but his real one became clear as he knocked the guns out of both of their hands with alarming accuracy.

“You have toys at home Rem, now hurry it up!” Roman yelled, having used his brother’s distraction to his advantage. He ran in the opposite direction and managed to yank open a window.

“Hear that boys? Robro says playtime’s cut short,” Remus said, both dodging Logan’s lunge for him and tripping Janus by hooking a boot behind his knees in one fluid spin. He bounced up in Roman’s direction like a spring and managed to elbow Logan in the stomach on the way, causing the senior agent to groan and clutch what felt like at least one broken rib.

“I’ll follow, try cutting them off!” Logan yelled, forcing himself out the window despite the pain, only sparing a glance at his partner who was scrambling to his feet. He looked like he was swaying slightly and Logan added getting Janus checked for a concussion to his mental checklist.

For now though, he had other priorities.

Logan tried his best to keep up and follow their path as the pair practically leapt their way from floor to floor down the rails and skipping the stairs of the fire escape. With his current pain, he couldn’t keep up with it. The agent skipped as many stairs as he could, even completely mimicking them over a couple flights to try and regain some ground, but it was only agitating his current pain and slowing him further. By the time he had made his way to the ground level, the brothers were already on the other side of a large iron gate.

“ _Hasta nunca!”_ Roman declared as he snapped the gate’s lock into place before taking a playful bow. Remus just blew raspberries at him as he took off in the same direction as his brother, leaving Logan stuck clutching the bars of the gate in frustration with no real way to get through it in time enough to catch up to them.

“Stop,” a Janus’ voice called an a wave of relief passed through Logan as just barely he saw his partner standing between the brothers and their escape route. The dark clothes made him nearly impossible to see. He hoped Janus alone would be enough to apprehend them. However, Logan grabbed a stray rock and started bashing at the rusty, old lock in the hope that enough force would eventually force the thing open, just in case.

“Hi again, cutie!” Remus said, stepping between Janus and Roman. “Funny meeting _you again.”_

“Rem?” Roman asked, looking between his brother and Janus hesitantly. He looked reluctant to leave him.

“Go find King, I got this,” Remus said with a malicious grin as he grabbed hold of the hand that tried to reach for Roman, allowing his brother to escape.

Now it was just Remus and Janus.

Janus twisted out of his grip, and centered his gravity so he was ready to counter. What he hadn’t been ready for however was Remus to dive at him in a tackle, knocking them both to the ground with Remus pinning the blond to the ground.

“Gotcha,” Remus grinned and...

Well, Logan wasn’t completely sure he believed what happened next.

Two pairs of eyes suddenly glowed in yellow and green. The shock of it was enough for Logan to slightly set aside his pain and add an extra oomph to his final blow to the lock, finally managing to dislodge the annoyance. After tossing the hunk of metal aside, he quickly made his way through the gate and sprinted in an effort to catch up before Remus managed to do any further damage to his partner.

It was what he found when he caught up however, that shocked him the most. Remus was still atop of Janus, a stream of tears running down either side his face as he stared down at the smaller man. Despite being pinned, Janus was smiling. He reached up with a single hand that Remus willingly freed and lovingly brushed the tears away that he could before cradling the side of his face.

“You found me,” Janus said, with a watery tone. Logan could hear levels of meaning implied in that phrase alone that he had no way of understanding.

Remus turned and kissed Janus’ gloved palm and moved to clutch the hand in his own, like it was a precious gem he was trying to protect.

“I promised you, I always would.”

Despite Logan standing right there, it was as if the pair only had eyes for each other, like they were in their own world.

Janus let out a sobbing noise that Logan had never heard from him before, before using his remaining hand to grab Remus’ collar and yank him down to his level. Remus almost purred as their lips met and he seemed to melt atop of him. Any structure or force the man had been using to hold Janus down had been shifted to simply holding him in a tangle of limbs.

“Let my partner go,” Logan finally said, yanking the man off and pushing him down into the grassy floor. “You’re under arrest.”

“Logan, you- you don’t understand!” Janus cried as he pushed himself up.

“I understand that you need to be checked for a concussion that _he_ caused,” Logan said, pressing a little harder against Remus’ chest in his ire. It wasn’t enough to truly hurt the man, but Logan would be lying if he didn’t want some retribution for his rib.

Logan was left unsatisfied though as Remus paid him no mind. The mustached man below him simply went wide-eyed below him and futilely reached out a hand toward Janus before asking, “I hurt you?”

“I’m okay,” Janus said and for reasons Logan couldn’t fathom, he reached back, taking Remus’ hand in his own. “I’m _okay_.”

The tender display quickly made Logan feel uncomfortable and made him increasingly worried about the state of his partner’s mental health. He finally turned Remus around, ending the strange hold and moved Remus’ hands instead behind his back so he could be cuffed. Remus didn’t resist.

Just as he was about to secure him in place, Janus shoved Logan, causing him to tumble into the grass. He cried has he landed on his side, further agitating the broken rib.

“Run!” Logan heard Janus yell.

His vision was blurry with pain, but as it cleared, his jaw dropped as he stared at Janus gently pulling Remus to his feet, a Remus whose sole purpose suddenly seemed to be holding Janus in some way, gripping his hand and wrapping an an arm around his waist.

“You have to go,” Janus said, weakly trying to push him away, as if he had no will to be separated either.

It was like scene from a cheesy romcom... and it was all the evidence Logan needed of his partner’s betrayal.

“Come with me,” Remus said, pulling Janus ever closer. “...please?”

That was enough of that, Logan decided, unable to hold back a groan as he forced himself up off the ground. The pain was making him increasingly fuzzy, but like hell if he was going to let his partner be manipulated and taken away by a member of King’s gang.

“...I...” Janus started, but hesitated as finally glancing Logan’s way. “I can’t”

“You _can_.”

Janus shook his head as Logan pushed himself to his knees.

“I have obligations here, one especially,” he said, wincing as he stared Logan’s way. “You have to go though.”

“I’ll find you,” Remus promised, pressing his forehead to Janus for a moment, anything to prolong their time.

“You always do,” Janus said, the smile returning slightly as Remus still hesitated to go. Janus gave him a gentle shove, toward the path Roman had taken just minutes before and despite appearing all but unharmed, he looked pained as he and Janus separated.

Honestly, Janus didn’t look much better.

———

“What happened back there?!” Logan demanded, running a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time in an attempt to curb his anger.

“He’s my soulmate,” Janus said simply from his spot at the table in Logan’s apartment.

While Logan didn’t typically like it when other people entered his apartment, they needed somewhere discrete to be able to discuss what happened.

“I thought you didn’t believe in all of this soulmate nonsense. Do you really want to attach yourself to some random thug?”

“Logan, I know him. I’ve seen it, us... we’ve had so many lives together. He was a prince once and I... I was nothing then, just some peasant. I should have died then, but he took care of me. Then, in another life, he lived in obscurity. They called him a witch. I was a merchant and had a self-made fortune traveling the lands, but he gave me a reason to settle. There we lived, a lifetime together on the edge of society, the forest providing nearly everything we could need. We fought together in one of the world wars and died, holding each other in one of the trenches. I’ve seen him die in so many hospital beds and I’ve seen him mourn me as I passed on in his arms.”

Janus paused, only to scrub away the tears he had only just noticed were falling down his face.

“But more than that.... there was love. In each and every life time. It was endless... Logan... please, you have to understand,” Janus pleaded, grasping Logan’s hand in a desperate hold.

“Janus I... I don’t,” Logan said, pulling his had from Janus grip, as his partner flashed him a wounded look. “How can I?”

“Logan, there were so so many lives together and in each he eventually finds me and in each I eventually follow him because no matter what we faced, even when it was death itself, with him I felt safe.”

“Listen to yourself!” Logan cried, running his hands through his hair, musing the once tidy locks. “I don’t understand what has gotten into you?! You just let two of King’s lieutenants get away and your only reasoning is this soulmate nonsense? If someone had said this to you yesterday, you would have called them an imbecile, Janus!”

“Just yesterday you let armed robber at the damn bakery get off with nothing but a lecture!” Janus bit back, almost hissing the words through clenched teeth.

“Yes Janus, I let a desperate man go, a man who could barely hold up the gun he pointed properly! It was a miracle the guy even managed to turn the safety off. Janus, this is different, this guy is dangerous! He almost took your head off with a spiked bat and laughed while he did it! You don’t know what he’s done or who he’s hurt!” Logan said, shouting a few of the words a bit louder than he truly meant to. He stopped himself and took in a desperate gulp of air before eventually letting his shoulders sag as the energy suddenly depleted from him. “You do understand that... right?”

“...you’re right,” Janus said finally, looking absolutely heartbroken at the realization. He stood up from the table and clutched the sides of his arms, staring down as shame crept onto his face. “I need to get some rest and clear my head okay?”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay making it home?” Logan asked, just thankful that his partner was finally listening to sense. “Do you want me to call you a cab?”

“No... thank you. I’ll be fine,” Janus said and gently patted Logan’s shoulder twice as he past him on his way to the front door.

“Hey,” Logan said, carefully reaching for Janus’ arm and making him pause in his gait. “It is going to be okay. We are going to figure this out, we always have.”

“Try to get some rest for those ribs, okay?” Janus said over his shoulder as he staggered toward the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

———

Janus was already gone by the time Logan made it to his apartment with coffee from The Crowned Bakery clutched in his grip.

When Logan finally forced his way into the apartment after a full thirty minutes without a response as he tried to knock and reach his partner’s suddenly disconnected phone.

All he found left was Janus’ leather gloves sitting on the marble of the kitchen counter.

With nothing left to do, Logan slipped on the gloves.


	3. Epilogue: Starting Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janus waits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That happy ending I was supposed to finish on and mistakenly took out because I was trying to keep a single POV.
> 
> Whoops.
> 
> I hope you had a very happy holiday andykzsstuff! ^^

Janus perched himself on the edge of the bench, both questioning everything in his life up until that point and the consequences of his most recent choices. His job, home, life... even his best friend were all lost to him now. A part of him, a _loud_ part of him wanted to find a way to stay in contact with Logan. They’d met in their college days with the same minor and essentially stuck together ever since. Well, Janus had sort of attached himself to him, given Logan was inarguably the smartest person of their year. Janus was no slouch when it came to his grades, but it was always helpful to have a reliable person lean on when it came to missed days. Plus, he was such fun to tease, always taking things just a tad _too_ literally. He’d never expected they’d end up at the same academy, much less partnered together on the force. They’d been a team ever since, and now?

Well...now that was over.

Janus took a quick glance at his watch. The drive had been several hours out into the country and after the last round of drop offs, it was nearly noon. Far too late to go back now. Logan would almost certainly know by now. He wondered faintly how many times his phone had been called, not that he had it anymore. The thing currently sat at the bottom of the city park's lake, it had been his final stop before his disappearance was cemented in his mind as _final_.

What Janus had left of this life was currently packed away in a couple of bins and a single suitcase of his car. He had worked through the night, taking most of his possessions to second hand shops to be donated. It helped that he already had a plan of action in place if he had to leave quickly. Janus had always known disappearing was a possibility given his line of work, what he hadn’t expected however, was that he’d be disappearing _from_ that line of work.

Even the packing had been a surreal experience. Janus had felt a sort of disconnect from it, like the items weren’t really _his_ anymore, or maybe they never really were? He knew he had largely purchased them, owned them, and by all accounts the worldly possessions he’d acquired in this lifetime were _his_... but that was the problem wasn’t it? Janus was newly disconnected from this life. Well, that wasn’t really quite true. He was no longer a man of one life, but many. Somehow this lifetime felt just... _so small_ compared to the seemingly countless lifetimes he suddenly had butting into each other in his brain.

Finding the park he was currently waiting in had been an ordeal. There were so many conflicting memories to sort through and so many _changes_ that had taken place. He knew exactly where he was supposed to go, but the getting there had been the bigger question. The roads had changed, the markers in his memory had changed, even the landscape itself had changed. Some parts had industrialized while others had been abandoned or overgrown. There was a particular farm he remembered distinctly that had new buildings and was full of life that was just a hollow shell of the lively place he remembered now. Still, even from his memories he’d eventually found the park he was looking for, the communal one with the iron gates and fruit trees, the one that had a particular section they had always tended to together in the spring, the one where he’d shared at least three separate first dates.

While it wasn’t a constant in all of his past lives, but it made a regular appearance in his most recent ones.

He didn’t know where else to go.

This was _their_ place.

Would Remus remember?

Janus tried swallowing down his anxiety and pushed himself to a stand. At least if he moved, he could work away some of the extra energy his worries were giving him, worries like, this was all for nothing. Worries like Remus wouldn’t come.

…worries like he’d never see him again.

Janus pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. There was no reason to be so doubtful. Remus had _always_ found him. It was commonly said that soulmates shared a few past lives together upon meeting, but Janus could remember _dozens_. It was as if every time he let his mind wander, he could remember a new... or old? instance of meeting Remus all over again. Every time he closed his eyes, he fell in love again.

Why should this time be any different?

It shouldn’t... _right?_

Shoving his bare hands in his jacket pockets, Janus pushed himself forward. He tried to disassociate himself from the here and now, the waiting was already _agonizing_ and decided to let himself retrace steps he was certain his current feet had never taken. He tried not to focus too much on what he could see, letting his—well not muscle memory, but... instinct maybe?—guide him forward.

Janus found himself stopping in front of a large sycamore tree, it was one of the larger trees in the park actually. He didn’t recognize it immediately, but something made him _feel_ like he was in the right place. He was getting recall flashes of... something.

At least, they were vague until he caught sight of a pair of initials carved high into the bark. R & J.

He reached for the marking, just barely able to run his fingertips over the grooved letters. It was so strange to see the faint carving so high up when he distinctly remembered Remus carving it, in what was probably their most recent life, as they lounged together against the roots while indulging in a picnic.

They had been so young then, just teenagers when they found each other in that life. Even more though, they had been _rebellious_ and _wild_. Even that particular day, he could distinctly remember the leather jacket and ugly bell bottoms Remus had worn as he drove his mother’s stolen car just behind his house, before helping Janus climb down from the second floor window at nearly midnight. He remembered that they drove for nearly a full day to find their way here, and that was already after Remus had driven a good three hours to get to him first. Not that he should have ever been behind a wheel anyway, considering the teen was only 15 and without even a permit to his name. Still, they had a full four days together and even if sleeping in the car then had left him aching, he remembered it as four of the best days of that life.

It was also the last four days of that life. Janus could only recall the barest few seconds of a car coming their way, but a single flash let him know that the car definitely hit his side.

He wondered what became of Remus after that. Did he survive it? And if so, what happened? Technically, he could have still been alive if he continued on. He could have been an old man in rocking chair somewhere, causing mischief for any poor orderly unlucky enough to be tasked with him, but he wasn’t. Janus only saw him in the dark that night, but he looked nearly his own age, if a bit younger, maybe 25? So something _must_ have happened after Janus’ memories ended.

Did he live on without him? It hurt a little to think about...

…but not nearly as much as if he didn’t.

Janus decided then that maybe some things were indeed better left unanswered.

Remus was alive and well, he’d seen it for himself.

They’d be together soon.

“I found you,” a soft voice and warm breath whispered against Janus neck, causing him to shiver. A hand reached up over his own, the palm of it leaned against his knuckles as the fingers reached a little further up, tracing over the letters more fully.

“I knew you would,” Janus replied, a smile slipping its way on his face so effortlessly as the strange fingers threaded their way between his own. He was then pulled away from the tree and closer to the warm body behind him, not that he minded.

“I didn’t,” Remus said, automatically hooking a hand on the small of Janus’ back, like he had done it a thousand times before and, well, it was because he had. “I was beginning to think you were just in my head.”

Remus moved to reach for Janus’ other hand and pulled him closer, staring directly into his eyes mismatched eyes. It was a look Janus had seen _so_ many times on so many different faces. Still, it always meant the same thing: that Remus was entranced.

And wasn’t it just a wonderful feeling to know that he was the one so entrancing?

“Like an impossible dream,” Remus said and, as if he couldn’t help himself, pulled Janus’ hand closer to press the ungloved knuckles to his lips. “Then again, you’ve always been far too good to come from _my_ head.”

“You’re still having nightmares?”

“You remember that?”

“Of course,” Janus replied, leaning forward and letting his own hands link behind the taller man’s neck.

What the bigger question was, was how he could have ever forgotten? Remus was an ocean of memories in his mind, that was held back by a measly floodgate. It was a wonder really, how the barrier hadn’t cracked away years ago from the sheer, destructive force that Remus was—even within the confines of Janus’ own mind.

“People usually thought you were a seer, until Christianity took off and they started to say you were possessed by demons.”

“Or witches.”

“That too,” Janus replied with a grin. There were certainly no shortage of times the pair had to run away together. Salem had been a close call, but hardly unique. Remus often struggled with acceptance and had a penchant for getting himself, and by extension, Janus, into trouble.

Not that he would have changed a thing about it.

The hand around his waist tightened and Janus could see those bright green eyes start to glimmer as they grew shimmery from building moisture.

“Hey, hey, shhhhh,” Janus cooed, reaching an alarmed hand up to brush away the first fallen tear before gently asking, “What is it?”

Had he done something wrong?

“I couldn’t do it without you Jay,” Remus whispered, leaning down to press his forehead against the shorter man’s. “I’ve barely made it this long without even remembering you... I... if it wasn’t for Ro....”

Remus pushed even closer, absolutely surrounding Janus everywhere he could, arms and legs pressing tightly around him. Remus’ grip was almost painfully tight, desperate even, as if he let up even the slightest bit the man in his arms would somehow disappear. When Remus began to shake, Janus pressed his hands into his back, rubbing methodic circles as he tried to sooth his love through the sobbing.

“ _I’m here_ ,” Janus insisted, feeling a wetness on his own cheeks, from Remus or himself, he wasn’t sure. “We’re _both_ here.”

And just like that, Remus gathered Janus tightly into his arms, pulling them both into a dizzying aimless twirl. Janus thought that maybe it was the rush, or maybe it was the way the world blurred away, leaving them feeling wobbly and unfocused, but slowly Remus’ sobs started to recede and tiny giggles took their place. Then giggles were replaced by full, deep belly laughter until Remus stopped them suddenly. He let himself fall, taking the brunt of the impact even as he pulled Janus along with him, cradling him between protective arms.

“I found you,” Remus repeated, but the inflection was so much different this time. It wasn’t a tone of surprise or disbelief, or even that aching little fear of waking up. It was hope, and joy and love and a most of all, a resounding feeling of _finally_.

Because finally, they were together again.

As they were meant to be.

“I knew you would,” Janus replied again, but his grin was uncontrollable now despite aching cheeks, he hadn’t really fully stopped laughing yet.

And, well, if Janus thought he knew what Remus’ fond stare looked like, he found himself dizzy all over again as Remus cupped his jaw with both hands, rubbing thumbs over his cheekbones as emerald eyes stared down into his own.

And suddenly Janus was scared.

He was scared of that fond look, of those eyes, so endlessly full of love that was aimed his way, of this stranger who he knew so _so_ well, who has proven so many times would truly do _anything_ for him in all the lives they’ve known each other.

Truly, Janus was terrified to his core as one nagging, _heartbreaking_ thought pushed itself to the forefront of his mind.

_What if he couldn’t live up to himself?_

Could he really be what Remus wanted? What Remus _remembered_ of him.

Could he really compete with himself?

“We made it Jay,” Remus said, so close now his nose brushed gently against Janus’ own. Remus’ tone was still a bit watery from crying and his voice a bit hoarse from laughter, but the pure joy behind it was undeniable.

When Remus leaned forward and pressed a long, but chaste kiss to his forehead, Janus found he wasn’t so afraid anymore. When he pressed another to his nose, Janus felt the the phantom pangs clenching in his stomach from fear start to be replaced by a fluttering feeling of butterflies, or bees, or hummingbirds, or whatever other cliché description that would explain the sudden rush that convinced his nervous system that he was floating. When Remus teased him, by pressing a kiss just _next_ to the corner of his mouth, Janus decided he was done with patience.

Just as Remus began to pull away again, Janus moved with him. He was the one leaning this time as he pushed Remus underneath him. As Remus gave a tiny gasp, Janus wasted no time, literally taking his breath away as he cut off the intake by crashing his lips against Remus’ own. Hands quickly found their way around Janus again as Remus’ entire being seemed to relax around him. Janus could hear just the softest of sighs, as relief seemed to overflow from the man underneath him.

There were no fireworks. No bombs, or shocks, or sparks of sudden infatuation.

This was a kiss of familiarity, a kiss of, “I know you,” and, “I see you,” and “I’m here.” This was a kiss of tenderness, and care, and impatient waiting, and that slight tingling fuzziness that never seemed to quite go away. It was a kiss that called to millions upon millions just like it.

It was a kiss that was _theirs_.

And when it finally broke, Remus apparently decided he wasn’t ready for it to be over, because he only tightened his grip again, peppering more against Janus’ cheeks, across his nose, down his jawline, and even dipping down against his neck. The rapscallion only seemed to grow more enthusiastic when a particular spot just under Janus’ ear made him shiver for a second time.

It was a while still, before the kisses stopped. As things started to slow down, Remus let himself lean back into the grass, fearlessly pulling Janus down with him. He guided Janus to lean on his shoulder and Janus compliantly pressed himself close. No matter how much he wasn’t ready for the moment to end quite yet, no matter how much he wanted to claw himself back to wakefulness, back to excitement, he couldn’t. The reality was, he had worked through the night and then driven several hours, the exhaustion was beginning to set in to his system. Remus didn’t look as if he was faring much better when those green eyes began to flutter closed.

As the edges of sleep started to invade, Janus wondered if the novelty of it all would wear off, of the excitement in finding each other. Their lives had been so very _different_ this time. Janus’ current—well _previous—_ livelihood was in direct opposition to everything about Remus’ own. There were so many doubts rattling around in Janus’ brain, so many things he had to know. So many questions to be addressed. Most important of all however, being:

Could they really make it work this time?

Janus found himself startled just slightly more awake as fingers began to card themselves through his hair. The former agent looked up from under his lashes to preserve the image that he was asleep, only to find Remus much more awake than he had apparently pretended to be.

“I have so much to show you Jay,” Remus muttered, without breaking the soft rhythm of stroking Janus’ hair. The careful, repetitive motion would quickly make Janus _actually_ succumb to sleep if he wasn’t careful. “I’d give you anything you want. We could go to Scotland, seize a castle and keep an army of snakes to set on anyone who dare try to tell us we can’t.

“We could find that cottage again, the one that’s north from here. Do you remember it Jay? I don’t think we’ve been there since the twenties. We could go and make a garden and never bother with another person again.

“I have some obligations of my own, but I’d leave it all behind if you asked me to. In an absolute heartbeat. But... but me and Ro are tryin to do somethin’ Jay...somethin’ good. We’re tryin’ to do so much and I know... I _know_ you could do so much to help us,” Remus paused his ramble to lean down an press an appreciative kiss into Janus’s hair that warmed him all the way down to his toes.

“But only if that’s what you want,” Remus said, never quite pulling away, so his cheek pressed against Janus’ own. “There’s so much still to do. You’ve always been so damn smart Jay, and I know you could do so much, but what you want means more. You don’t have to come with me anywhere.”

Remus looked surprised when Janus reached a hand over, returning the favor by running his fingers through Remus’ own dark curls, but surprise wasn’t enough to stop Remus from leaning into the touch.

“ _I’d follow you anywhere._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr. Same username. You can come say hi, generally bug me, or even yell at me if that's what you want. I generally keep my ask box open and I can info-dump about any of these stories forever.
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